“Lonely,” she says, sipping her drink to hide her face.
I’d imagine loneliness is a common feeling for Hailey, if Nate’s experience with her parents is anything to go by. I’m at a huge advantage, knowing more about her than she does me. I should come clean, ask her about Nate, yet something tells me I need Hailey to draw her own conclusions about me first.
Nate doesn’t think she’d be interested given his history with Erin. But what if she was interested in more than just Nate?
The bell chimes overhead and I place my hand on her lower back and lead her to the table full of assholes I plan on wringing dry. I pull back my chair, legs wide like a king as I pat my thigh.
Hailey takes a moment, but situates herself on my upper thigh, her legs squeezed tightly together between my own. I keep a possessive hand on her hip, attempting to keep my fingers above the hem of her underwear that I can feel through her dress.
“Okay?” I ask her, giving her a squeeze.
She throws back the drink and glances at me. “Can I get another drink?”
“You can have whatever you want, baby.”
She licks her lips as her sweet scent fills my nose. I keep my composure, but I can tell the other Alphas piling in at the table smell it.
It’s a twisted feeling. I enjoy them scenting her, knowing that she’s mine. That it’s not my pheromones driving her crazy, she likes me for me, the Beta they underestimate constantly. Then another part of me wants to punch each of them in the nose so they can’t enjoy her scent at all. Like I said, twisted.
“Look at you, bringing an Omega,” Zach says as the woman on his lap giggles and runs her hand over his chest.
“Look at you, still alive despite your coke problem,” I retort.
His face falls flat as the other Alphas in the room laugh. When I glance over at Hailey, her mouth is agape before she laughs.
“Did you have to pay her to come?” Zach retorts.
Alright, damn, that was a right on the nose comeback.
“No. He has no problem making me come,” Hailey says, running her fingers through the hair sticking out of my hat.
A few of the Omegas laugh along with the Alphas and Zach looks pissed. I squeeze her tighter into my lap as I grin wickedly at Zach.
“Any further questions?” I ask.
Conner laughs. “Always glad to have a Beta around to keep these games interesting, and to bring such a feistycompanion for the evening. One has to wonder if you’re overcompensating…”
I rub my thumb against her hip, hoping my touch reassures her that I don’t feel that way. She isn’t some feral animal, or thing, looking to be tamed. She’s a person, and that’s part of why I can’t stand the pompous pricks around me.
It’s nice not feeling guilty about taking their money, especially considering it’s going to fund whatever vehicle Hailey desires.
Hailey glares daggers at Conner. Instead of responding, she places her hand around the side of my neck, her thumb stroking the short beard covering my chin.
“How long is this going to take, baby? I want to do that thing again,” she says with a mischievous sparkle in her eye.
I’ve always believed in some degree of luck in my life. I was lucky my mom married a good man and he taught me Texas hold ’em when I was eight. I was lucky when I won my first tournament in Atlantic City. Even luckier when I moved to Vegas and made this my whole life. My latest stroke of luck was going into a dive bar and meeting a firefighter who was the kind of Alpha I knew I could build a life with. I know most Betas don’t dream of having a pack, but I always have.
But something tells me the woman sitting on my lap may be my luckiest brush of fate yet.
“Soon. Be patient, baby” I tell her.
I swear I can see the jealousy in some of the Omegas’ glances. Hailey must feel it too, because she leans down and places the tenderest kiss against my lips. It’s chaste, but feels like we’re putting on a complete show for these Alphas.
Is it a show? Or is it something more?
She tastes tart and sweet as I lick my lips and the first deal happens.
Poker is a mix of a few things: luck, reading your opponent, and knowing your odds. Any asshole can have a few good rounds, it's luck of the draw. But the best players? They use psychology to get in their opponents’ heads, to know who’s going to fold and who has a better hand.
